


Lightly Stabbed

by Yesimevil



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, This took literally five months, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:52:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yesimevil/pseuds/Yesimevil
Summary: What would have happened if Ross had taken drastic measures at the raft?/Minor updates made January 19th 2019/





	Lightly Stabbed

They took Sam. They fucking took him. Of course they did. Clint knew Ross was pure evil (and an asshole), but Clint was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He knew the was Ross's head worked. Ross probably wasn't so evil that he would torture Wanda, and him and Scott both have families.

That left Sam.

Sam, who would try to carry the weight of your burdens along with his so that you wouldn't have to.

Sam, who would do anything to make you smile when you were having a down day.

Sam, who somehow won his way into everyone's heart within 8.3 minutes of meeting them.

Sam, who was only twenty-fucking-six.

And they took him.

God knows where, and what they would do.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Clint sat with his head in his hands. Him and Scott had attempted small talk about their kids, but it trailed off into worried silence. He wished that they had taken him instead.  
He was trained for this stuff.

Sam wasn't.

He didn't doubt that Sam wouldn't tell, and that was the problem. Sam would die first. He didn't want to think about what they would try to do to make him tell.  
His head jerked up as an agony filled scream filled the air. The first scream since they took him an hour ago. He really wished that he was there instead of Sam.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~

They dragged him back nearly an hour after that and threw him into his cell, where he instantly curled into a fetal position, pain written across his face. Clint leapt up and pressed against the glass when the guards had left.

"Sam!" Clint yelled. Sam slowly raised his head.

"I didn't say anything," he winced.

"I don't care, okay? I need to know how badly you're hurt," Clint said in (what he hoped was) a calm voice.

"M'fine, see?" Sam reassured, struggling to his feet. Clint's heart leapt and dropped simultaneously.

"Nonono, Sam, don’t-" he was cut off by the door opening. He snorted. Stark. The last person he needed to see right now. He stared clapping sarcastically.

"The Futurist, gentlemen!" He proclaimed, "The Futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what's best for you," he added in a bitter tone, sitting down next to his bed, "whether your like it or not."

"Give me a break, Barton. I had no idea they'll put you here. Come on." Tony tried to reason. Clint spat.

"Yeah, well, you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony."

"Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Criminals?" Clint asked, standing up, "Criminals, Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for." He leaned against the glass. "Right? That didn't used to mean me. Or Sam, or Wanda. But here we are."

"Because you broke the law." Tony retorted.

"Yeah," the archer responded.

"I didn't make you." Clint was not going to stand here and listen to this.

"La, la, la, la, la…" he sang obnoxiously, walking away.

"You read it, you broke it." Tony called after him.

"La, la, la, la la…"

"Alright, you're all grown up, you got a wife and kids. I don't understand, why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side?" Tony threw at him, then walked away. Coward. Dragging his family into this and walking away.

"You gotta watch your back with this guy." He warned the others. He slammed on the glass angrily, "There's a chance he's gonna break it." He walked back to his bed and sat down, seething. He looked over and saw Stark over by Sam's cell.

"How's Rhodes?" He heard Sam inquire.

"They're flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow. So… fingers crossed," the other man answered gloomily. Their voices lowered and Clint couldn't hear through the glass. He lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Tony left after a few minutes and Scott was snoring. Clint got up and looked over to Sam's cell. Sam was sitting on his bed, holding his ribs with a pained expression.

"You good?" Clint asked, concern laced in his voice. Sam looked up quickly and moved his hand away.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered.

"What's wrong with Rhodes? Why's he being moved to Columbia Medical?" Clint asked curiously. Sam looked down guiltily.

"It...it was my fault... I was tailing them, and Vision shot at me... I dodged it, but it...it hit Rhodes arc reactor... he...he fell and I wasn't fast enough...I should've been faster..." he leaned over and put his face in his hands. Clint’s parenting instincts kicked in and he wished he could go and comfort him. Fucking stupid-ass walls.

"It wasn't your fault, Sam. You dodged it, and if you hadn't, how do you think Vision would have felt? How do we think we all would feel? Rhodes had armor on, and because of that, he will probably survive. You just have a butterfly wing pack, and you would be dead as soon as you hit the ground." Clint rambled. Sam looked up, graditue evident in his eyes.

"Anyways, I'm gonna get some sleep, and you should too." He continued. He went back to his bed and lay down. He was asleep in minutes.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

He woke up to the door opening again. He jumped up, disoriented. Was it more guards? Where they taking Sam again? He saw a figure next to Sam's cell and stumbled to the glass.

"Hey! Leave him alone! Take me, you've done enough to him!" He yelled. The figure hurried over. Steve??!

"Steve?" Well that's good no more guards. Wait. Steve?!

"What are you doing here?" He hissed. “You need to get out!" Steve shook his head.

"I'm getting you guys out," he informed him, and suddenly the door opened. Clint got out and went over to Sam's cell. Sam was sitting on his bed, looking to be in considerable pain.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked, putting and hand on the younger man’s shoulder. He flinched a bit, then nodded.

"I'm fi-"

"No, you aren't," Clint argued. Steve came over, a concerned puppy look on his face.

"What happened?"

"He was tortured," Clint ground out through gritted teeth, slinging Sam's arm over his shoulder. Steve looked alarmed.

"Tortured?! Why?" He turned to Sam, "are you okay? What did they do?"

"Torture is an overstatement. I was...lightly stabbed. And punched. With brass knuckles." Sam groaned as they made their way out. Clint sighed. This kid was worse than anyone he knew.

"But why?" Steve questioned, alarmed.

"Why do you think?" Clint asked, "Scott and I have families. Wanda is a girl. Ross is evil, but he's not HYDRA. He's not gonna torture someone who has a family, and definitely not a girl." They met up with Wanda, who was keeping watch.

"What happened?" She inquired upon seeing Sam practically limp out the door.

"This idiot was 'lightly stabbed' as he put it" Clint snorted.

"M'fine" Sam protested, "See? I can stand by myself." He shoved himself upright and stumbled a few steps. Clint snorted. "Yeah, that’s not happening." Clint grabbed him again. Everyone else trailed behind. When they boarded the jet, Steve and Clint basically shoved Sam into a seat.

"Wanda, could you do some magic voodoo stuff and assess his damage?" Clint requested, ignoring Sam's protests. She nodded.

"I was about to suggest the same thing myself." She closed her eyes and concentrated as the jet took off. Clint glanced behind him and saw Steve flying it... he didn't know if Steve could even work a phone. Well, they might die today. He was snapped out of his musing of whether or not they would survive by Wanda opening her eyes and declaring she was done.

"So, Dr. Wanda, what's the assessment?" Clint asked. She smiled wryly.

"Three broken ribs, two cracked ribs, a concussion, was electrocuted, waterboarded, oh, and he was- how did he put it?- lightly stabbed," she turned to Sam, "Lightly stabbed? LIGhtly StAbbed?!" She asked incredulously. Sam shrugged.

"Well...yeah..." Wanda stared at him.

"You call this lightly stabbed?" She lifted up his shirt and reveled three relatively deep stab wounds, with some sort of tape over it so he wouldn't bleed through his shirt.

"Shit!" Clint cried, leaping for some towels. By the time he found some, Sam was unconscious. Shit.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

As soon as they arrived at Wakanda, Sam was rushed off, presumably to the hospital. They rest were escorted to their rooms. Clint paced his room for at least five hours before someone came and told him that Mr. Wilson was out of surgery, and he would make it. Clint breathed a sigh of relief and got some sleep.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

Sam woke up in a panic. Where was he? He needed to get out. Were they trying to get information? He tried to get up, but was too weak. Why? Oh. He looked over. An IV. He started pulling at it, still panicked, when someone grabbed his hand and said something he couldn't hear... was he under water again?

"I won't tell you anything," He shouted at the person. Several more people came in the room and he was administered a shot. His eyelids closed and the world went black.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

When he woke up again, he was much more aware of his surroundings. He turned his head and saw Bucky sitting on his right side, reading Harry Potter. Bucky's metal arm was missing... it looked like it had bean blown off. Sam realized that Tony probably did it when he went for a "friendly meeting". Guilt hit him like a train when he remembered that it was him who had told Tony where they were. He turned his head away, but the movement drew Bucky's attention.

"You're awake," he stated. Sam nodded.

"At least you didn't wake up like last time." Sam furrowed his brow. Last time? Oh. Oohhh. He had waken up in a strange place. That must have been here. The IV. That makes sense.

"You flatlined during surgery," Bucky commented lightly, like they were just discussing the weather.

"Why'd I have surgery?" Sam rasped, confused.

"You're also on a lot of drugs. You were stabbed three times, bled a lot, and a rib had punctured your lung." Oh. It all came rushing back to him.

  
" _Where_. _Is_. _Captain_ _America_."

" _Oh_ _he's_ _on_ _this_ _nice_ _little_ _island_ _called_ _Go_ _Fuck_ _Yourselves_."

" _Electrocute_ _him_ "  
  


He closed his eyes against the memories. When he opened them, Bucky was staring at him like a worried, awkward puppy.

"How's your arm?" Sam asked, not meeting his eye. Bucky shrugged.

"Well, I might need to get a new one... they probably have some at a secondhand store." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Did you just...?"

Bucky nodded. Sam laughed, but broke off coughing. Bucky reached to the table next to him and handed him some water. When he stopped, Sam stared off into the distance again.

"M'sorry about your arm," he said quietly. Bucky gave him a confused puppy look.

"Why? It wasn't your fault."

"I...I told Tony where you were."

Bucky sat there, stunned.

"Why?"

"He...he said that he would go as a friend. That he just wanted to straighten things out. I was stupid to believe that,” he laughed humorlessly.

Bucky contemplated whether or not Steve would mind if he killed Sam.

"Well?" Sam rasped, "Get mad at me, do anything, I-" he broke off coughing. Bucky handed him his water again.

"I deserve it," Sam whispered, "Send me back to Ross. He'll deal with me."

Bucky wanted to be angry, he really did. But at the suggestion that he send Sam back to Ross, his face developed a concerned expression.

"I won’t send you back there. I wouldn’t ever send anyone there. No matter what they’ve done." Sam stared at him through his drug-induced state.

"Look, I know that you were just trying to help. You endured extreme torture, and you said nothing. And Tony did come as a friend at first, but he found out some-" Bucky winced, "-things that I had done when I wasn’t myself. It’s not your fault." Sam’s eyes closed groggily and he feel into a peaceful sleep.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

A few days (and nightmares) later, he woke up and Clint was sitting in the chair next to him.

"Lightly stabbed?" He questioned. Sam groaned.

"That’s not going away, is it?"

"Nope."

After a few moments of silence, Sam asked,

"How are you doing?"

Clint snorted.

"The question is, how are you doing?"

"The doctors said I should heal up fine," he shrugged.

"I already know that. How are you doing mentally?" Clint pushed.

"I’m fine," Sam responded, staring at the ceiling.

"Bullshit. Just know that you can talk to me when you’re ready."

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

Everyone who visited asked how he was. He always responded with I’m fine. So far everyone but Clint (and most likely Bucky) had bought the lie. The truth was, he was the furthest from "fine" that he had ever been.

He had nightmares every night.

He flinched at loud nosies.

He would wake up, panicked and thinking he was back there.

With the help of his friends, he got better.

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_  
A few months later, he went to the river with Steve, Clint, and Bucky. (Scott had gone home). They had fun and splashed around, when suddenly Sam slipped in the mud and face planted into the water

  
" _Are_ _you_ _certain_ _you_ _don’t_ _wish_ _to_ _comply_?" _Ross_ _said_ _as_ _he_ _paced_ _around_. _Sam_ _glared_ _at_ him.

" _Put_ _him_ _under_."

" _Sir_?" _A_ _young_ _solider_ _questioned_ _hesitantly_.

" _Damnit_ _I_ _haven’t_ _got_ _all_ _day_! _Do_ _it_!" _Ross_ _snapped_. _They_ _dunked_ _his_ _head_ _again_ _and_ _again_ _andhecouldn’tbreathehecouldn’tbreathe_ -  
  


He jolted out of the flashback with a start, and saw that he was on land, with Clint leaning over him and Steve and Bucky hovering around anxiously.

"You okay now?" Clint asked. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

"Actually, never mind, I know what your answer is already-"

"No you don’t!" Sam protested.

"-probably something along the lines of 'I’m fine'," Clint continued. Sam closed his mouth.

"Yup, that’s what I thought. Can you stand?" Sam attempted it and found he couldn’t. Clint signaled to Bucky and suddenly the ground was gone and he was...moving. There was something warm next to him and he was so tired...he’ll just close his eyes for a second...

_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_<>_

He woke up from the first restful sleep he had gotten in a while. He looked around and saw he was in his room, and Bucky, Clint and Steve were sprawled in various positions on the chairs. He reached for his phone and snapped some pictures, but the photo noise woke Bucky, which woke Steve, which woke Clint. Clint jumped up and hopped over.

"How are you feeling? Answer truthfully," he demanded when he saw Sam’s mouth open.

"I’m...better," Sam said after a minute. Clint sat on the bed and pulled Sam into a big hug, which Bucky and Sam joined in.

"It’s okay not to be okay," Clint whispered, "You’re not alone. We’ll help you."

And for the first time in months, Sam felt okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
